


A Letter (Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell)

by mayseriouslyunusual



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4764701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayseriouslyunusual/pseuds/mayseriouslyunusual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon recieving bad news, it is comforting to have friends around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Letter (Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic for onstraysod on tumblr as part of the JSAMN Society of Magicians auction house. They requested a slightly different Hannah to in my previous fic; older, around Childermass' age in fact, and the two of them having been intimate in a casual sort of way for a number of years. Hope you enjoy!

“Hannah?” came a voice from the kitchen door. A heavy, masculine, Yorkshire voice. Hannah found she could not supress a girlish grin, but she did manage to settle her features before she turned around.

“John, you’re back!” she said, drying her hands on her apron.

“Yes,” he said, hastily removing his hat as she strode towards him. “Uh, a letter’s come for you-”

“Oh, you are daft!” Hannah laughed and took the letter, secreting it into her pocket. “You’ve been gone for a week! Right now, you’re far more important than any old letter.” She looked around to check that they were alone in the kitchen, then placed her hands on his shoulders and stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss. After a moment he wrapped his arms about her waist and kissed her back. They broke apart, and he leaned back to look at her.

“Oh, I do miss you when Norrell sends me away,” he said, then added, “all of you lot below stairs, I mean.”

Hannah shook her head and grinned. “You were so close to saying something romantic then, John. Next time maybe.” She stretched up and kissed him again. “I always miss you too, you gruff thing.”

They sat at the table, and Hannah fetched a jug of beer and two cups.

“Where is everyone else?” he asked.

“Most of them are clearing up upstairs,” she said, pouring the beer, “Davey and Mrs Wetherald have gone to rest. They’re tired, bless them, him from driving, her from cooking. And I don’t know where Dido and Lucy have got to, so I was setting everything straight down here.”

“Oh, I should get after those girls,” he said, sighing, “and you should stop covering for them!”

“Oh, leave them be, they’re young! They need a chance to have fun,” Hannah replied, sipping her drink. “So, then, how are you? How was your trip?”

He suddenly looked very tired.

“It does get wearing, you know,” he said, after a moment. “Silencing these other magicians. I thought this one might have been the real deal, but… well, you know how it is. I found a trick table in the end. Still, it does feel wrong to be ridding these people of their occupations for no purpose other than to quell Norrell’s paranoia.”

“I know it is not useful in itself, John,” said Hannah, clasping his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze, “but I also know that by helping Mr Norrell you are helping English Magic. Courage, love. And,” she added, matter-of-factly, “you have to admit it is amusing to see what a self-centered, cowardly old fool he is.”

He gave a shocked laugh at her forthrightness. “I’ve never heard you speak like that of our master before!”

“Well, tis true, and anyway, you needed something to knock you out of being miserable,” she said. He laughed again, and she sat back, satisfied with a job well done. “So,” she continued, getting the letter out of her pocket, “I think I’ll read this now if you don’t mind.”

He made a gesture for her to continue, so she picked up a butter knife, and used it to slit the letter open. It was from her friend Anne, who was a maidservant in Mr Canning’s house. Hannah read through the first few paragraphs, which covered all the usual gossip, who was walking out with who and so on and so forth. She laughed out loud at a description of the butler coming across one of the maids and one of the footmen kissing in the pantry. Anne’s somewhat haphazard approach to spelling was amusing, too. However, she was brought up short by a passage at the beginning of the second page.

 _O, Hannah_ , it read, _I am sorry to have to tell you this, but Francis has got himself dissmissed. He was fownd with a set of stolen silver spoons in his pokket. It appears he thort to sell them and buy a prezent for your birthday. I do not think he ever ecspected to get caut, you know how he is, so self-confident. But Mr Canning has put it on his recorde that he is a theef, and so I do not know how he shall get anuther job. I know how hard you workt to get him his possision, and so I am very sorry for it. I do feel some responsebility. You did aske me to watch out for him…_

Hannah let the letter fall from her fingers, and Childermass, noticing her abrupt change of mood, picked it up. He read it, frowning.

“Who is Francis?” he asked, when he was done.

“My brother,” she answered. “He has no respect for authority, nor has he ever,” she continued, slowly, “he only follows those rules which suit him, and so he is forever coming up against his superiors. It’s made it very hard to find him a job. I thought he was doing well in this one… but apparently it was not meant to last.” Childermass took her hands in his, and guided her to her feet. He then circled his arms about her shoulders and held her, his chin resting on top of her head. To Hannah’s surprise, she found herself crying into his chest.

“Oh, I wish he weren’t so stupid!” she exclaimed. “I wish he’d just do what he’s told!” She paused and placed her arms about Childermass’ waist. She rested her head on his chest and took a moment to breathe in the comforting scent of him, even though it was, to be truthful, mostly tobacco smoke. After a time, she continued. “When we were young, I was always getting him out of trouble. I was the oldest of six children, he the youngest, it only seemed natural. I just did not expect for it to continue all our lives.”

“Oh, Hannah,” said Childermass, holding her out at arms length, “from what you’ve told me, you’ve been a wonderful sister.” He wiped a tear from her face with his thumb. “And you’ll continue to be. We’ll find your brother a job. I’ll give you all the help I can. Courage, love.”

Hannah laughed through her tears. “That’s my saying.”

“Well, tis a good one,” he replied, smiling at her. She smiled in return.

“Thank you, John.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very much appreciated!


End file.
